


Tug O’ War

by wackyjacqs



Series: Bizarre Holidays [51]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s08e18 Threads, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 20:26:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17856428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wackyjacqs/pseuds/wackyjacqs
Summary: “Do you think I should quit the Air Force?”She doesn’t look at the person standing to her right, but sees their shock regardless as they swing around to face her. They don’t answer immediately, however, which she appreciates. Instead, they move closer to her side and mirror her stance; elbows resting on the railing and their gaze falling on a random spot in the far end of the yard that’s ensconced in darkness.“Do you want to quit the Air Force?” Their question is slow, heavy, unsure.





	Tug O’ War

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ‘International Tug-of-War Day’ (19 February). Missing scene for 'Threads', or shortly after the events of the episode.

“Do you think I should quit the Air Force?”

She doesn’t look at the person standing to her right, but sees their shock regardless as they swing around to face her. They don’t answer immediately, however, which she appreciates. Instead, they move closer to her side and mirror her stance; elbows resting on the railing and their gaze falling on a random spot in the far end of the yard that’s ensconced in darkness.

“Do you want to quit the Air Force?” Their question is slow, heavy, unsure.

“I’ve been thinking about it over the past few days,” she admits. “But I don’t know.”

“Did something happen?”

She wants to laugh at his question and for the first time she _really_ wishes she could tell her brother exactly what it is she does under Cheyenne Mountain, but she can’t.

“Things… are changing,” she offers quietly instead.

“You never were one for change.” She turns her head and looks at him sharply, but Mark simply lifts a shoulder in response. “I mean, you were fine when your military orders changed, but that’s different. That’s part of your job. You’ve always followed the rules.”

She stares back towards the yard, snuggling a little further into her sweater as she recalls one of her final conversations with her father.

_Don’t let rules stand in your way._

“But –”

Sam glances at him out of the corner of her eye when he hesitates. “But?”

“Let’s just say when it comes to other aspects of your life, you don’t necessarily handle change well. You like to be in control.”

_You’re content. You’re satisfied. You’re in control._

When Mark settles down beside her again, he asks, “So, what’s changing?”

“No-one really knows yet. I mean, our standing overs for the past eight years… they’ve been carried out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. My team and I – we’ve been fighting a battle for eight years,” she whispers, aware that she’s technically telling her sibling something he isn’t allowed to know. “But now it’s over. We won.”

A slight smile graces her lips as she thinks of the galaxy now free of the Goa’uld.

“That’s… good,” he says finally, unsure of what else to do and Sam nods enthusiastically. “So, you’re awaiting reassignment?”

“No. Yes. Well, maybe. I don’t – I’m not sure.”

“You’ve been reassigned before. What’s different this time?”

“I don’t think I _want_ it.”

“The Air Force has been your life so for long, Sam. Aren’t you always saying how much you love your job –”

“I do love my job.”

“Then what’s going on? Why are you suddenly talking about leaving it all behind?”

She goes to speak, but doesn’t know how best to answer the question, so she lets the silence fill the space until one of them decides to start the conversation up again.

“OK,” her brother eventually hedges. “Say you quit – or retire – whatever. What would you do? I know you, Sam. You’d be bored out of your skull within the hour.”

“I could get another job.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know there were so many vacancies around for a theoretical astrophysicist.”

“There are a few positions that are available within the Air Force,” she clarifies. “So, I’d still be working _for_ them, just… in a more civilian capacity.”

“And that’s something you’d want to do?”

“I think so, yeah,” she nods. “I mean, I’d no longer be going off-wor – there would be less traveling involved,” she quickly corrects. “And it would give me a lot more time in the labs and back to R&D.”

“So, this isn’t so much about you leaving the Air Force as it is you leaving the front lines.”

It’s a statement, rather than a question, but she feels the need to answer.

“Maybe.”

“Sam –”

“Do you ever feel like you’re being pulled in too many directions?”

“All the time,” he smiles ruefully, but Sam isn’t able to raise a smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, and when she feels a gentle nudge to her shoulder, she forces herself to meet his gaze.

“I’m tired,” she suddenly admits.

“Of?”

It’s her turn to sigh. “Everything. I – I feel like I need a fresh start.”

“Perhaps this isn’t the best time to be making such a big decision.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“For one, Sam, we only buried dad yesterday.” She bristles at Mark’s tone, even though she knows his anger isn’t necessarily directed at her. “And then there’s the fact that you’ve called off your wedding –”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, his voice noticeably calmer than before. “You have a lot going on at the moment. Maybe you should give it a couple of weeks before you start deciding your future.”

A snort escapes her before she can stop it and she tries to wave off Mark’s confusion but he doesn’t let her.

“Eight years is already a long time.”

“Eight years?” Her brother’s frown deepens, but she just shakes her head, thankful when he doesn’t press the issue further. “Did dad know that you were thinking of giving it all up?” he asks moments later.

“No.”

The waver in her voice betrays her answer, however, and she winces.

“Sam? Did dad say something to you before he –”

The word catches in Mark’s throat, just like it does with Sam. She shakes her head again, then stops. Her whisper echoes loudly in the darkness. “Kind of. He said he wanted me to be happy.”

“Dad said that?”

“Hmm.”

“Did he have any reason to think you were unhappy?”

“Maybe. He met Pete.” She pulls a face as the words leave her lips. “Their first meeting didn’t go too well. I think dad felt he wasn’t the right guy for me.”

“And you believed him?”

She smiles ruefully into the darkness. “I think I knew before then.”

Mark goes to respond, but hesitates and Sam has the feeling that what he’s going to say next isn’t what he initially planned to say.

“I’m not mad or disappointed that you’ve ended your engagement, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” She turns to glance at her brother and immediately feels guilty as hurt flashes in his eyes that she didn’t believe him. “I’m sad – for you – that it didn’t work out. But I’d rather things end up this way and you be happy, than you go through with the wedding and not be.”

“I’m sorry,” she sighs.

“You don’t owe me an apology, Sam. An explanation, maybe, but –”

“As to why I broke it off with Pete?”

“Yeah. You haven’t said anything besides ‘it just didn’t work out’.”

“There were a few things,” she says as she gives him a half-shrug. “He couldn’t live with my job – the secrecy of it. He used to say I was hiding something from him, but I had to. My work is classified and –”

“Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy, Sam,” Mark utters in hushed tones as he pulls her into his side and she angrily swipes at the tears that have escaped unbidden down her face. When she has her emotions back under control, she feels Mark press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Talk to me, Sam.”

Her voice is muffled against his jacket, but she feels safer this way, a slight barrier remaining as she comes as close as she ever has to baring her soul before.

“It felt like there was so much being expected of me – both at work and then at home from Pete and with the wedding and discussing our future – it was too much. People were busy assuming what they _thought_ I would want, but none of them actually stopped to ask me what I _wanted_ and I just... couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t _want_ to do it anymore.”

They remain silent for a few minutes before Mark pulls away and speaks softly. “What do you want, Sam?”

_‘Jack’_ is suddenly on the tip of her tongue, but she stops herself from uttering his name. However, she isn’t able to stop her attention from straying towards her house where the General, her teammates, and Mark’s family are currently making their way through a pumpkin pie. Her brother follows her gaze, but she ignores the look he gives her when clarity floods his features.

“General O’Neill seems like a good man,” he eventually offers.

“He is.”

She catches Mark’s nod and the way his jaw twitches when he’s about to ask something important of her. She can feel her heart rate quicken as she holds her breath and waits.

“What part does he play in all of this?”

“What makes you –”

“Oh, come on! You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way he’s looked at you today?”

“Mark, that’s not –”

_“Sam.”_

She swallows the rest of her sentence and turns back to rest her arms on the railing.

“Did dad ever talk to you about mom?”

“What do you think?” Mark asks as he copies her stance once again.

“He, uh, he said something to me once. Kind of,” she adds, as she isn’t quite sure a hallucination of her father actually counts.

“What did he say?”

She hears the break in his voice and she squeezes his arm reassuringly. “He said that mom showed him a world beyond ambition and a career. That she gave his life meaning and balance.”

He’s visibly surprised by her confession, and he raises a brow, telling her to continue, so she takes a deep breath. “And even though – knowing what happened to mom – he said he loved her so much that he would have done it all over again, just to be with her once more. He loved her, Mark.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because it’s the same with the General and I.”

A low whistle escapes her brother.

“And if we had to relive these past eight years and do our job – through the good and bad – so that it would bring us to this point all over again, we would.”

“Look, Sam, dad had his faults, we both know that, but he did love mom. So, maybe – maybe he knew what he was talking about?”

She frowns at his response and he shrugs.

“You think I should follow his advice?”

“That depends on the advice he gave.”

“That I should let go of the things that prevent me from finding happiness.”

“And right now, that’s the job?”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

He sighs. “I’d never tell you what to do, Sam, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the one you need to be having this conversation with.”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I have. Kind of.”

_“Kind of?”_

“It’s been a busy week.”

She winces as Mark’s amusement quickly fades, but he doesn’t look away. Instead, his eyes are intense and he’s studying her as if he’s trying to come to a decision.

“Do you love him?”

His question surprises her, but she finds herself nodding once, and he lowers his voice as leans in closer. “Does he love you?”

Again, she nods once, and Mark takes it as all the confirmation he needs. “There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” he says after a while as he looks up at the night sky. “You deserve to love someone, Sam, and have them love you in return.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“And you make it sound like it’s a game of tug-of-war,” he fires back. “Work or family. Family or work. Why can’t it be both? You said it yourself. Eight years is a long time. Doesn’t the Air Force owe you something by now?”

She huffs out a laugh void of humor as she considers his question, but she shakes her head, because while Mark’s comeback may have been sarcastic, that’s exactly what it feels like for Sam. Her heart has been at the center of a cruel tug-of-war for years. Only it isn’t a game. It’s never been a game, and now she’s been pulled so tight in so many different directions and trying to make decisions, only to doubt herself or second-guess others, that she feels she is about to snap and the only way to save herself is to let go. To let go of the ropes that have bound her and chained her down for so long. To finally break free, before she goes after the one thing her heart and head really wants. The one definite in an entire world of uncertainties at this moment in time.

"I guess this past week has made me realize that there is something more to live for than just work," she murmurs as she tugs on the hem of her sweater and lets her gaze fall to her feet.

"I wouldn't call that a bad thing."

"It isn't," she smiles. "It's just trying to figure out how to make it work."

“You’re smart, Sam, and Jack doesn’t exactly strike me as stupid either. Something tells me you’ll figure it out.”

“Would you be happy? If we do?”

Mark turns and regards her carefully for a few moments, and Sam fights the urge to look away.

“That depends,” he finally answers. “If you do find a way, will you be happy?”

The General has already promised her _'always'_ , so she knows that they will do whatever they have to, to make a relationship work. Her lips involuntary curl into a smile at the thought.

“Yes,” she nods as meets her brother’s eye. “I will.”

“Then I’m happy too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Quite possibly – i.e. very out of character, but I’ve always loved the idea of Sam and Mark having a bit of a heart-to-heart, and today seemed to be that day... even though this was not what I had planned to write at all.


End file.
